Rob Beeler, Beeler.Tech
Recently, someone posted a seemingly innocuous question in our community:
“What’s wrong with transaction ID? Why isn’t it on everything?”
That one post set off a firestorm: my phone started ringing, the Slack threads blew up, and the opinions were flying. People lost their minds, if I’m being honest, and there are a couple of reasons for that.
A transaction ID is an identifier for an impression that’s passed through as part of the bid stream, helping to track an impression from publisher to DSP and reduce bid duplication, among other things.
The concern for the publisher side, however, is that it becomes a signal that lets a DSP look across all the different paths a publisher uses to sell an impression. So, they can say, “Oh, this is all the same thing, and here’s the cheapest path for us.” With that kind of visibility and clarity, the fear is they’ll always buy from the publisher at the lowest possible price.
That’s great business for the DSP, but publishers have no ability to sell and are left defenseless: “Well, here it is. Cherry pick what you want and pay the least you possibly can, I can’t stop you.” So, for the publishers who do know about this, they’re not exactly thrilled, and you can’t blame them.
There are publishers I’ve talked to who estimate this bottom-dollar approach, where they have no say in the value of what they’re selling, could cut up to 30% of their revenue, if not more.
On top of that, a meaningful number of publishers don’t even know what a transaction ID is, or when or how it’s being used on their behalf. It’s like being asked by one of your developers, “Hey do you know what a JSON command is?” I mean sure, I know how to spell it. But what we’re talking about here is a level of technical minutiae that most publishers don’t get into.
For example, in my capacity as a head of ad operations, no one has once asked me about transaction IDs for us. Not a single time has someone come to me as the client and ask, “Do you want to do this?” And it’s been in spec for two years.
That’s the bigger issue right there.
Most of us have handed this stuff off to SSPs and middlemen
And we give them the same mandate that’s been given to all of us: “Get us more revenue, we don’t care how. And if you can’t, we’ll find someone else who will.” We don’t ask what’s being passed through, we don’t know how it works, and we sure as hell aren’t setting the terms ourselves.
The problem is that you’ve got numbers to hit, right? And, whether we like it or not, programmatic is a part of our world. Sure, some of us have tried to avoid it, but we always eventually come back into the fold as the returning prodigal programmatic son.
The catch is that when we tell our programmatic teams to “Just get more revenue, I don’t need to know how,” we’re poisoning our own well as publishers. You flood the market, you train buyers to pay less, you chase every possible dollar, you strip away your own leverage, and (at some point) you dig yourself a hole so deep you can’t dig your way out.
Look, I can I already hear some of you now:
“No one’s proven that finding new ways to ‘do it right’ pays off.” That’s totally fair.
In another recently published exclusive, (which you should absolutely read), one publisher under the condition of anonymity put it perfectly:
“Do any of us have the courage to say, ‘Hey CRO, I’m gonna tank revenue for the next three weeks because I think we can make more money by showing fewer ads.’ No. The leeway to get that wrong doesn’t exist. Leaders aren’t giving their teams the space to experiment, to make those kinds of bets and be wrong.”
That’s the inherent gamble in finding new ways to “do it right.”
Many of us want to, but when your marching orders are revenue at all costs, your hands feel tied. But staying the course doesn’t work either. You already know where that road ends. So while gambling isn’t without risk, if you don’t make that bet now, you may not have a business left to gamble with later.
We have a fundamentally broken auction system
Let’s pretend for a moment you’re a seller walking into Sotheby’s with a painting. Knowing what you’ve got in-hand, you’re expecting a competitive auction. But what you don’t know is that, before it even starts, the buyers huddled outside and already decided who’s going to bid and at what price. By the time your painting is revealed on the auction floor and the auctioneer (who holds the power) bangs the gavel, there’s really only one bidder at play.
That is not an auction. That is a rigged game.
It’s also precisely what’s happening in programmatic today. The buy side has consolidated. The biggest players aren’t competing out in the open; they’re working it out ahead of time. By the time your impression hits the market (regardless of what value you think it holds), the outcome’s already been decided.
Meanwhile, on the sell side, publishers are flooding the market. Management looks at a spreadsheet and says, “CPMs are down, make them go up.” So, the team adds more partners, hoping a new pipe will change the trend… which it never does. All it does is undermine your standing, add hidden costs, and collapse bid density even further.
Let’s be clear, as a publisher, you’re not walking into a fair auction today. You’re walking into a room where the buyers already worked out the ending on your behalf.
When you chase revenue, you lose leverage
This is the part those of you in leadership may not want to hear. But you’ve got to think about how you “merchandise” your own value. Chris Kane uses that word a lot, and he’s right. Publishers have to show why their inventory matters, and that shows up where there’s bid density. That can mean more people bidding, or it can mean the people bidding on behalf of buyers sharing enough information to make the auction competitive.
Will the buy side push back? Yes. They’ll say, “We represent our buyers, that’s our job.” Fine, OK. My point is simpler: publishers should work with people who are actually going to work with them.
I know that sounds easier said than done, because everyone tells you they want to work with you as a partner, “not a vendor.” That’s where your leadership comes in. You need a bullshit detector. Your ad ops team has one, but you need one, too. If all you’re asking your people is, “How little are we getting bullshitted,” you’re missing the point.
You have to empower your team to ask the basic questions, or you have to start meeting with the big SSPs yourself. There are five major ones, and you probably should be working with all of them. But you can’t just hand it off anymore and call it “delegating.” You’ve got to walk into those meetings ready to say, “Enough with the shenanigans.”
If you walk into a negotiation without the ability to walk out, on your terms, you have no strength.
Michael Scott can do it in The Office, for God’s sake.
All I’m asking you to do is be better than Michael Scott.
Why don’t publishers feel like they can walk away? Part of it’s the reality: infinite supply, limited demand. Buyers have more options than you do, and it’s true. Larger publishers can flex in ways that mid-tier publishers can’t. But a lot of this is simply the power of perception; you’ve been led to believe you have no power.
I’ll give you an example. Somebody on X mocked hard floors, said: “Why are we setting display floors at $8, dog? Watch me chase that into the open exchange.” That’s the mindset publishers are up against. Buyers have been conditioned to believe you’ll cave. And too many publishers have been conditioned to believe they have no choice.
Set your price and know your price
The other challenge is that too many publishers don’t get to set the price for what they’re selling. Hell, I look at my own bill and see line items for features I never asked for, things I never opted into, and fees I never agreed to. And just like that, another cut taken and someone else telling me what I’m worth, all because I didn’t reply fast enough… if I was ever looped in at all.
If you don’t control how your inventory is packaged and priced, you don’t have a business.
Put another way, if I’ve got a BMW and a Hyundai to sell, I know they’re not the same car. But if the same rules we’re talking about here apply to cars, they’re both priced like Hyundais, and that’s insane. You don’t merchandise a BMW like a Hyundai, unless you’re fine giving it away for pennies on the dollar.
But that’s what many of you publishers are doing right now with your best inventory. You’re letting buyers price a BMW like a Hyundai, so you can’t be surprised when they never pay more than Hyundai rates.
You’re letting pipes flatten everything, and suddenly your premium audience is clearing at bargain-bin prices.
Now, here’s where I’m going to sound like I’m talking out of two sides of my mouth. On one hand, I’m telling you to set your price by walking into negotiations you’re willing to walk away from. On the other hand, I’m also telling you to know your price by understanding what the market will actually pay.
In reality, both things are true. You can’t cling to a fantasy number you want others to pay because that’s what you wish you were making, and you can’t just let the market tell you what you’re worth either. You’ve got to do the hard work in the middle: setting a line you won’t cross, but grounding it in reality, so it holds.
Think of it like running a pizza shop. Let’s say you only buy flour from Italy, so you decide a slice is worth $20. Why? Because you want to retire and buy a big boat. Sure, your ingredients are premium, but really, c’mon now. That’s not the market telling you your value, that’s making up numbers.
“We’ve got X impressions. Divide that by a $20 CPM. That’s what we should be making.” That’s fantasy. That’s pricing by hope.
The other side of knowing your price is you can’t do it alone
SSPs and wrapper companies are supposed to represent you in the marketplace. In theory, that means you should be treating them as extensions of your business, but most publishers aren’t. Instead, it’s: “Here’s 5% of my inventory. If you don’t hit my number, you’re out.” That doesn’t create partnerships, and it certainly doesn’t help you merchandise your value or establish real pricing.
Even with the right partners, you’ve got to be honest about your own inventory. Not every impression is a snowflake.
I’ll use my own experience. I know which impressions are premium. I know which ones come from engaged subscribers. But when everything goes into the system the same way, none of that matters. There is no premium, it’s all Hyundais as far as the eye can see, because the market prices it all at commodity rates. So, instead of being rewarded for putting my best impressions forward, I get punished for flooding the market. CPMs go down, value disappears. No boats or retirement for anyone.
You’ve got to know which slices of your inventory actually carry weight, and you’ve got to put those into the market with the right partners. If you don’t know your price, the market will happily decide it for you.
This is where the real work begins. Before you ever talk about CPMs or auction mechanics, you’d better have a story. If you don’t know why your audience matters, the pipes will treat it like it doesn’t.
What does “work on your story” mean?
It’s knowing why people are coming to your site in the first place, and knowing how to talk about it:
- What makes them choose you over anyone else?
- Does that choice create a unique opportunity for an advertiser?
- Once they’re on your site, do you give them a reason to stick around?
- Can you turn that first click into a newsletter signup, a login, or even just a second page view?
- Are you even willing to ask for those next steps, or are you too scared of the user to create that friction?
I know that last question might sting, but a lot of publishers are scared of their users. They don’t ask for anything, and hope that a frictionless experience will keep them around. But friction isn’t the enemy.
Friction is awesome.
Frictionless is what turns you into a commodity.
Logins, newsletters, second page views… that’s where your real value comes from.
I know I say this a lot, but there’s nothing but hard work ahead. And if you think programmatic is easy, you’re giving away the store.
For those of you reading this who feel exhausted, you’re not alone in feeling that way. No publisher can survive on their own. But if you don’t start working this piece out, you’re not even ready for the next front. Because the game is to be a trusted source around whatever it is you do, and I don’t care if that’s fan fiction or news. That human connection and trust, that’s the game.
If you’re not investing in that, you’re going to bleed out everywhere else. Yes, I know, that sounded gross. But it’s true.
Look, I know I’m making some pretty grand statements here
I’m not spoon-feeding you a premade playbook of guaranteed winners, and you shouldn’t trust anyone who says they can. What I’m trying to do is lay down some gauntlets for those of you in leadership, because it’s time to ask yourself if you’re willing to change the way you think about your business.
If you are, here’s what you do next:
- Stop working with everyone just because they promise you more revenue. Every time you flood the market, you drive down your own value. If a partner isn’t helping you merchandise your inventory or build your story, walk away.
- Start demanding transparency from the people representing you. SSPs, wrappers, whoever it is, if they can’t tell you what’s being passed through or how it’s priced, they’re not working for you. And leadership needs to be in those conversations, not just ad ops.
- Keep doing the hard stuff that actually builds your business: investing in content, building direct audience relationships, and creating friction that adds value. That’s the work. It’s not glamorous, and it’s not easy, but it’s the only thing that pays off long-term.
Are these generalizations? Yes, and I hate generalizations, too. I don’t think I’ve ever liked a single one. But if you need a frame to think about where to put your energy, this is where you start.
Creating content is still a valued endeavor.
That part hasn’t changed, even if it’s gotten harder. What publishers have to do is keep building and deepening the relationships with their audiences, because that’s the only leverage you own.
If you lose sight of that, you’re just letting everyone decide your value for you.
And trust me, they’ll always round down.